“What?” Raskolnikov seemed to wake up. “Oh⁠ ⁠… I got spattered with blood helping to carry him to his lodging. By the way, mamma, I did an unpardonable thing yesterday. I was literally out of my mind. I gave away all the money you sent me⁠ ⁠… to his wife for the funeral. She’s a widow now, in consumption, a poor creature⁠ ⁠… three little children, starving⁠ ⁠… nothing in the house⁠ ⁠… there’s a daughter, too⁠ ⁠… perhaps you’d have given it yourself if you’d seen them. But I had no right to do it I admit, especially as I knew how you needed the money yourself. To help others one must have the right to do it, or else Crevez, chiens, si vous n’êtes pas contents .” He laughed, “That’s right, isn’t it, Dounia?”

“No, it’s not,” answered Dounia firmly.